Deception
by TiffaniLouise
Summary: Alternate reality. Sherlock, publicly known as the Reaper, is London's most elusive serial killer. Luce is sent undercover to deceive him and bring him to justice. But when good meets bad, things don't go according to plan.


**Deception**

**Mission: Undercover **

The room smelled of cheap coffee, the kind that was drunk for the caffeine and not the taste. The only source of light came from the screen projecting an image of a young woman, in her mid-twenties with long black hair. It was a standard regulation picture, the kind taken for ID passes. The woman in the picture's hair was down, falling in waves around her beautiful but serious face. Green eyes stood out from beneath long lashes, her skin a naturally tanned shade. Chairs were arranged around a metal table that was in front of the projection, people occupied all by one chair.

Detective Inspector Moriarty began the meeting. He was sat the closest the projector, a laptop in front of him, controlling the image projected onto the screen. He was dressed in a smart grey suit, a blue tie and white shirt.

"As you know, we are after the Reaper. As it states in your files, which I am assuming you have all read" he raised his head to make brief eye contact with all the officers at the table, watching as a few squirmed, completely avoiding his eye contact. He looked back at his laptop and started again, Irish accent heavy as always. "He has killed the total of 14 people, all female with different backgrounds and in different parts of the country. He is unlike any other serial killer we have encountered; he spots his victims, tracks and seduced them, has his fun with them and after a few weeks kills them. This is done by the removal of organs and multiple stab wounds before severing their body parts. He drains whatever funds they have and moves onto his next victim. He is very neat and organised but we are hoping to catch him out. And we will do this with the help of Special Agent Lucinda Roberts, from the FBI, she has kindly offered to help with our case, this remains our investigation, _not_ an FBI investigation. That being said she will have jurisdiction and be able to use whatever resources that she has access to. I'd like to introduce you to Lucinda; she will be going as 'Lucinda Price' while undercover."

The door to the meeting room opened to reveal the same dark haired girl that was pictured on the projection. Her hair was neatly pulled off her face in a tight bun, green eyes vibrant beneath brown eye-shadow. Lucinda was dressed in a tight black business dress that reached to just above her knees, over the sleeveless dress sat a blue blazer that matched her blue heels.

The room was silent. Lucinda came to stand besides James Moriarty, a small smile playing on her lips, purposely avoiding the vacant seat that was obviously meant for her. The D.I cleared his throat. "And questions?"

A young female officer with caramel skin and black curly hair raised her hand. James nodded in acknowledgement and she spoke, London accent obvious. "Why don't any of us get the chance to go undercover?"

James opened his mouth to respond but shut it again when Lucinda answered for him. Her voice alluring while she spoke in a matter of fact way that wasn't uncommon with FBI. "This is by no means a comment on any of your abilities to complete such a task. The only reason I am here is because James asked me to, he wanted someone to go undercover and I fit the bill, with my own situation, it was easier to create a false identity based on half-truths. I also have a lot of experience in undercover work, it was a logical option."

If the female officer was annoyed with the answer she didn't show it, instead she leant back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Any other questions?" James addressed his teams, when nobody answered he dismissed them. The officers filed out one by one until only he and Lucinda were left in the room.

"Are you sure that you are ready for something like this?" he asked hesitantly, shutting his laptop while he stood up so he was on level with her. Lucinda gave a small but certain nod. "Please be careful then, I would rather not have to visit a crime scene with you as the victim."

"Relax" she urged, resting a manicured hand on his shoulder. Her voice dripped with confidence. "I've got this, I always have."

* * *

Lucinda stood outside Leila's café. She had changed into a deep red, wine coloured pencil skirt with black wallpaper like pattern on the material. The material started mid-waist and ended below knee which she had put with a black crop top that left a line of her stomach showing, the tanned flesh light against the darker colours. A pair of black heels was on her feet, the underside a deep red to match her skirt. A simple black leather jacket covered it, the leather open, revealing her outfit. She took a deep breath, readying herself before going in. The café was bustling with activity, she now understood why the Reaper would frequent such a place, and possible targets were bouncing off the walls. There were people gossiping about all sorts, she picked up small things like 'boyfriend' 'money' and 'x-factor'.

She joined the not moving cue, there was no point visiting such a place without at least looking like she was there to get something to eat and drink. _If I'm lucky he'll find me_ she thought to herself. It would make the whole mission so much easier if he found her and she didn't have to spend days tracking and getting his attention.

Lucinda looked up at the menu, her mouth pursing in consideration.

"I'd recommend the gingerbread latte" The voice was deep, coming from behind her and masking the voices of the other annoying customers. Luce turned around to face him, the Reaper, dressed in all black attire except his oxfords which were a mahogany colour. _Bingo._ She kept her eyes on him, dark curly hair against pale skin, grey eyes that were staring at her, pink lips in an almost non-existent smile.

"Are you in a habit of recommending beverages to strangers?" She asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly while a smile danced on her lips, demonstrating that she was amused by the whole situation not annoyed.

The Reaper replied fruity, his deep appealing laugh apparent in a pleasant way. "Usually: No. But you seemed to be considering the menu, more so than the regulars, so I thought I'd make a helpful suggestion."

"Thank you but I'm afraid I don't' like ginger" she replied, her amused smile widening slightly at the thought of correcting him so early on.

"Ahh" he enunciated. "That wouldn't be the best option then."

Luce nodded in agreement before ordering herself a vanilla latte. The Reaper ordered a black coffee with one sugar. _Bitter_ she thought to herself. On collecting her drink she noticed that all the seats except for two, on a small table, were occupied.

"There's a small table in the corner" the Reaper said, noticing the look in her eyes. She faked an 'uncertain' look that would fit, he may be attractive but he was a 'stranger' and a girl had to be comfortable. "We don't have to sit together, I was just pointing -"

"Its fine, if you don't mind some company with your coffee" she cut him off. "Better than sitting alone."

The Reaper smirked. _Bingo_. "True"

He led the way, moving towards the table and sitting down in a swift graceful movement, like a cat, eloquent. Luce took a breath through parted lips. She had in the space of ten minutes, met and caught the attention of the Reaper, and was now going to be addressing him as a normal person. It didn't scare her that he had already killed fourteen women, after seducing them and playing with them for weeks, it barely affected her anymore. She was used to this kind of work, it was her life and she took it very seriously.

She sat down opposite the Reaper, pursing her lips slightly as she watched him watching her intently. He grinned at her, observing as she crossed one leg over the other and lifted her vanilla latte to her lips. "What brings you here?" he asked, voice tainted with confidence. His smile dropped slightly and he ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I am so rude, I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Sherlock."

He held out a pale hand which Lucinda accepted, his long fingers curving around her hand delicately, like they were supposed to be there. "Lucinda, most people just call me Luce though and I came to the capital for the same reason as every girl, I got dumped."

"Dumped?" he reaped as a question, adding. "Lucinda is a unique name, don't hear it around too often."

"I think that's why my mum named me it, wanted me to stand out or something." She shrugged. "And yes, my _ex_-boyfriend."

Sherlock seemed disappointed. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but why were you dumped?"

"According to him, I wasn't there for him and he found someone who was willing to be, my best friend." She replied, eyes lit up with fake hurt. "He was a sensitive kind of guy and well, I am not the sensitive kind of girl. I prefer to act before asking questions. And we can't forget that I was too demanding in the bedroom."

Luce hid her smirk behind her latte as she took a sip. If Sherlock was surprised he hid it well. "Too demanding?"

"Yeah" she confirmed, placing her disposable coffee cup on the table. "At least once a night, not always in the bedroom, adventurous and even dominating, submission gets so boring. But then that would be too much for a man who was fucking someone else for four months."

"Sorry, your boyfriend was clearly an idiot though."

"That is true." She nodded, smiling at Sherlock. She hummed suggestively. "I'm just looking for a distraction."

"I could always show you around, there are some amazing sights here, you should see them, and you never know they could act as a distraction for you." Sherlock said, sipping at his coffee.

"I would like that very much" Luce replied, ignoring the small warm feeling that was spreading in her stomach. _I am not a school girl with a crush on a teacher_ she thought, hoping the feeling would go away quickly. "Are you always this friendly to strangers?"

Sherlock smiled. "Only the attractive ones" he winked at her.


End file.
